


The Poem

by DimensionSponge



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Dukat still has no idea what is going on, M/M, Weyoun being creepy, Weyoun tries poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27992166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DimensionSponge/pseuds/DimensionSponge
Summary: Dukat continues to be confused by Weyoun’s weirdness. Poetry is involved. Takes place a week or so after Palms
Relationships: Dukat/Weyoun (Star Trek)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	The Poem

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old one I decided to post just now. I tried to make it romantic but it ended up as annoying. Which also happened to Weyoun  
> I wish I were creative enough to actually write said poem, but alas, I am not.

Dukat was hoping against all hope he wouldn’t have to deal with Weyoun today.  
He was finding it hard to separate his annoyance from his... other feelings.

Frankly, he didn’t know what was the matter with himself. It was one incident, that the vorta had clearly engineered. Weyoun made a mistake initially, that was clear, but inexplicably he’d decided to go with it for the entire day. In the following days, the flirting continued but at a low level. Many of his actions could be interpreted either way, and Dukat could not figure out what Weyoun was after if not to mess with him.  
It was rather confusing, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the attention. It was at once something to distract him from his worries, and to create new ones.

Of course he ran into him. They work together, why wouldn’t he? That didn’t stop Dukat from being mad about it.

And of course Weyoun could tell instantly.  
“You seem frustrated. Is something on your mind?”

He could have put it out of his mind if the vorta didn’t keep trying to talk to him.  
“That’s none of your business.”

Weyoun continued as if he didn’t hear.  
“Well, there must be, because the day has just started. Things can’t have gone wrong already.”

“Don’t be so sure.” He studied the ops interface intently, until Weyoun leaned in front of him.  
“I see you’re looking for a problem to complain about. Look, there’s one. The Klingons appear to be gathering near the eastern front.”

Dukat had already been over that. “Yes, and the reinforcements are a few days away. I can’t order them to break transwarp.”

“They’ll probably attack soon, then. We’ll lose these munitions, unless they decide to go straight for the colony.”

“I’m sure they will go for the colony, but we have orbital defences there. The reinforcements will arrive before they destroy those.”

“Then this was a pointless discussion.”

“Which you started.”

He moved away and continued studying the map from the other side of the console. Weyoun was still staring at him, with a creepy little half-smile.

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“I am working. I’m drafting a report.”

Somehow Dukat didn’t believe him.  
“Then do it over there.”

“The report is about you.”

“But why do you need to be looking at me?! It’s distracting.”

“Noted.”

Dukat squinted at him in confusion.

Kira passed them, her expression unreadable. Dukat was sure there was an irony here, but he couldn’t tell what it was.

Weyoun kept just standing there. It was almost like he was listening intently, though to what Dukat didn’t know.

“What’s in this report of yours?”

“I’ll tell you when I’m done. It’s a draft.”

Dukat rolled his eyes and walked away, seeking refuge his office. He half expected the little man to follow him, but fortunately he didn’t. Dukat sneakily observed him through the windows in the door, and saw him talking to Damar, then Kira. He looked to be acting normally around them. No weird staring or pestering.

If this was an attempt at flirting, Dukat had no idea what he was thinking. Some resources he must be reading. This wasn’t arguing, this was straight up annoying.  
He’d made up his mind. Last week must have been a dream. 

Upon beginning actual work, he got about 2 minutes of quiet before Weyoun invaded.  
He barely kept himself from thumping the desk in annoyance. 

He braced himself for more annoying conversation, but the vorta just sat on a couch and started typing on a padd. He looked to be progressing slowly, he kept pausing to think. The staring was thankfully absent, but his ears were angled in Dukat’s direction. 

After 10 more minutes, Weyoun put down his padd.  
“You know, you seem to be staring at me more than usual.”

“Not this again. YOU are the one staring! I’m just trying to do my work.”

“I don’t mind, I’m just wondering why.”

“I’m not staring.”

“You were watching me through the door.”

How did he know that?  
“I was not.”

“I promise, I wasn’t plotting anything. Just discussing business.”

“Unlike now.”

Weyoun dropped out of the conversation and started ‘working’ again.  
He kept looking at Dukat intermittently, and after a while started looking worried.  
Dukat was distracted by this antsyness, but he was loath to engage. 

Eventually, Weyoun got up and crept over to Dukat, as if he wanted to say something. Upon seeing his bad mood, he seemingly thought better of it and left. 

Weyoun then proceeded to avoid Dukat all day, who after a while managed to put the weird morning out of his mind. 

That afternoon, Weyoun abruptly came into the office and handed him the padd.  
“Tell me what you think of this.”

He started reading.  
He could not believe his eyes.  
This was poetry. Weyoun had written him poetry.  
It appeared he’d tried to do it in Cardassian, given the strange grammar. It didn’t seem to have much of a structure, and he’d incorporated words and concepts he didn’t really understand.  
It looked like more of a letter that he’d attempted to turn into poetry, but the intent was clear. However, specifically admiring someone’s military strategy wasn’t normally a subject of these. Weyoun had also complimented his... heartbeat for some reason? Maybe that’s what he’d been listening to before. There was also some stuff about his physical appearance, but it was clear Weyoun had no idea what would be considered attractive. Dukat didn’t really consider his ears his best feature. However, there was also an entire paragraph on his hands, which was... effective.

Dukat didn’t know how to react. He’d never gotten poetry before. He was usually the one writing it, and reading this one made him think back to some of his more... amateur attempts.  
It was considered very intimate to write a potential suitor poetry, but he assumed Weyoun didn’t know that. 

Suddenly he realised Weyoun was expecting an answer, so he started.  
“Poetry can have a variety of meanings. When used in this context... it generally means ‘I want to be with you forever’.”

“Oh”

“It’s been a week.”

Weyoun shifted his feet.  
“Well, that’s not all it can mean.”

Dukat raised his eye ridges.  
“Are you lecturing me on my own culture?”

“No.”

“Then what does it mean?”

“...I suppose it means... that, but less intense. A proposition, if you will, that we give this a shot.”

“‘This’ being... what exactly?” He gestured nebulously at the air.

“Well, you’re the relationship expert.”

“I’ll have to give it some thought. This is an unprecedented...” he waved his hand about, looking for a word. He settled on “development.”

Instead of appearing defeated like Dukat had expected, Weyoun smiled.  
“Great!”  
He’d meant that to buy him time to come up with a soft rejection (so as not to alienate his work partner), but it had clearly failed. Before he could correct it, Weyoun had left the room.

This had become a difficult situation.


End file.
